“I won’t! I promise.”
She turns and narrows her eyes in my direction. “How about your next ‘this or that’ be play or musical and think carefully before you answer. I’m guessing you’ll say musical.”
I’m putty. Complete putty. “Musical. All the way. Musical.”
She beams and it’s like a fresh breeze cutting through downtown Manhattan. “Awesome. We should see Hamilton together some time. Tickets are sold out for the next year, but Hagan has a friend.”
“Seeing Hamilton together? You mean, like a date?”
“No. I mean like two people who work together—hopefully—that go out with a bunch of friends. It will not be a date.”
“Fine. Whatever you say.” Not that I care if it’s a date. But I am ready to take this game to the next level—speed round. “I love anchovies,” I say. “Or I love olives.”
“You must love anchovies, because I heard you ask if there were olives in your lasagna at dinner the other night, and people don’t ask unless they don’t want them.”
“Yeah. That’s right.” I love how she knows things about me.
Or I hate how much she pays attention.
I refuse to answer that. But why does she pay so much attention?
I refuse to care about that answer as well.
Anyway, it’s her turn. “I want children. Or I want to run the New York marathon.”
“You want kids. Not now, but someday.”
“Ding, ding, ding.”
I want kids too. Now I’m imagining tiny people with my eyes and her cheekbones, and dammit, am I imagining having kids with her?
That realization punches me in the gut, but then it moves outward, shooting warmth through my entire body. It feels…right.
Our eyes meet, and it’s like drinking champagne how sweet and light and bubbly I feel as I drown in the pools of her eyes.
And she doesn’t even have a clue what’s going on in my head.
Which is a good thing. Because nothing’s going on. “I’m allergic to penicillin. Or I’m allergic to dogs,” I say next, trying to get a grip. Trying not to feel like I’m drowning in quicksand.
“You seem to be the type who likes dogs, so I’m hoping for your sake it’s penicillin.” She doesn’t look at me when she adds, “For the record, I love dogs.”
“I love dogs too. And I’m not allergic.” From the outside, it could look like we are subtly planning a life together. Kids—check. Dog—check.
“I detest mayonnaise. Or I want to have sex without a condom.”
Good sex—check.
I can’t tell you how fast my head twists toward her. “Please say it’s the latter.”
Her skin gets redder, and her eyes widen to the size of small saucers. “I don’t know!” she gasps. “I really detest mayo, and I said the other off-the-cuff, but I am on the pill and when I think about it, think about going bare—it kind of makes me squirm in my seat, and I don’t think it’s just because I’m only sitting in my knickers.”
I don’t even bother adjusting anything down below—there’s no point. “I’d like to try that out,” I say as calmly as I can manage. “Or I’m not into that.”
“You’d definitely like to try it out.”
I put on my signal, peeking at traffic over my shoulder, then head to park the car at the side of the road. “I’m pulling over because we need gas,” I say. “Or I’m pulling over because I want to kiss you.”
She’s quick in her response. “Neither. You’re pulling over because you want a blowjob.” She’s already undoing her seatbelt. Already bending over in my direction.
The game seems to have worked—she’s practically naked, and I’d say she knows me pretty damn well.
11
“I have hair on my arms and my legs,” Mina says as she fills her coloring sheet with red scribbles. “But that doesn’t make me a boy.”
Genevieve bites her lip, stifling a giggle.
“That’s right,” I say, adding purple hair to the princess Mina’s insisted I color. “Doesn’t make you a boy.”
When we’d arrived, the party was in full swing. I’d dropped our bags off in our room, changed into my suit, then instead of searching out my parents, I brought Genny to the designated children’s area to meet the other most important girl in my life—my niece.
Not that it really mattered if they liked each other or not. If I were really interested in Genny, it would, though. Mina and I are tight. A girl wants to be in my world, she has to get that Mina and I are a package deal. I couldn’t spend any real time with a woman who didn’t understand that.
But Genny and I are only here for Hudson. So whatever.
Still, I’m quite happy when the two of them hit it off instantly. Really happy.
Which is why I’m hanging out in a tent in our garden at Mabel Shores, crammed onto a kid-sized folding chair, coloring from a Frozen activity book at a kid-sized round craft table while grinning ear to ear. Behind us, my other niece, Arin, is digging dirt out of the ground with a plastic spoon and singing to herself, as she frequently does. A handful of other children run between the tables, throwing grass at each other. And the most beautiful woman in the world is smiling at my side.
I’m telling you—this might be heaven.
Mina pauses her coloring and looks inquisitively at my date. “Do you have hair on your arms and legs too?”
“I do. Though I take it off of my legs.”